


Strand by Me

by ricekrispyjoints



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Hair, Hair Washing, M/M, showering together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:25:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7454455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricekrispyjoints/pseuds/ricekrispyjoints
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What if… What if we both got to do each other’s hair?” Akaashi suggests. “Just to have fun, and see that hair is just hair. You look nice whether your hair is gelled up or it’s down and wet like this.”</p><p>“You mean I would get to do your hair and you would do mine?” Bokuto asks.</p><p>“Exactly,” Akaashi agrees.</p><p>***</p><p>Or: Silly boys mess with hair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strand by Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CloudMonsta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudMonsta/gifts).



> did u like the pun in the title ;)  
> this is a silly little fluff piece for my darling chimmy's birthday which was now almost a month ago but HEY i love u?? and i wrote like 90% of it on time if that counts for anything
> 
> no beta bc i'm lazy so hopefully nothing major. (i'm sure i'll re-read it and find like 4230 mistakes)
> 
> enjoy !

Bokuto considers himself an expert in a few select areas: volleyball, being an amazing senpai, and really cool hair.

So when Akaashi starts playing with his damp hair after a shower, Bokuto is a little concerned.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust Akaashi—his boyfriend of nearly eight months now—but he’s more than a little particular about his hair.

Despite being in his final year of university, Bokuto is still spiking his hair up like an owl, much to his professors and classmates’ confusion.

“Does he think it’s professional?” they whisper.

No, he doesn’t.

“Does he not know how to do his hair any differently?” they mutter.

No, he doesn’t.

And why would he want to? This hairstyle has seen him through three interhighs, college exams, and college itself. His hair is awesome.

“You should leave your hair down once in a while,” Akaashi hums thoughtfully.

Bokuto freezes up, a small strangled noise escaping his throat.

“Do… do you not like my hair?” Bokuto asks.

“It’s very _you_ ,” Akaashi says, like he’s avoiding the question.

“Oh my god, you hate my hair,” Bokuto whines, shrinking away from Akaashi’s carding fingers. “Why wouldn’t you say anything? Does it look bad? I thought it was cool, oh my _god,_ Akaashi.”

“Bokuto, I never said I hated it. It’s very you, and that’s a good thing. I just think you would _also_ look handsome with it down.”

Bokuto whimpers a bit, not entirely placated.

“Bokuto,” Akaashi says, voice warning him not to slip into dejected mode.

Bokuto whimpers again, a hint of a question.

“What if… What if we both got to do each other’s hair?” Akaashi suggests. “Just to have fun, and see that hair is just hair. You look nice whether your hair is gelled up or it’s down and wet like this.”

“You mean I would get to do your hair and you would do mine?” Bokuto asks.

“Exactly,” Akaashi agrees.

“And I can do whatever I want to it?”

“Well I would hope that you don’t try to do something you know will look awful, but yes.”

“Let’s do it. My hair’s already wet, so you go first. I’ll get my hair stuff!” Bokuto says, sour mood all but forgotten.

He dashes off to the bathroom, flinging open the cabinet to get two kinds of gel, a rather frayed looking brush, and a washcloth.

When he returns to the living room, he dumps the items on the couch, sitting Akaashi down next to them, then spreading Akaashi’s legs so he can sit on the floor between his feet.

“Do what you think is best, Akaashi!” Bokuto says confidently, as though he hadn’t been doubting his boyfriend’s opinion of his hair just moments ago.

Akaashi starts by just combing through Bokuto’s hair with his fingers, getting a feel for the soft strands. He looks over the products, not sure what to do with them.

Bokuto fidgets slightly as he waits for Akaashi to do _something_ , and finally Akaashi’s hands leave Bokuto’s hair to grab the lighter of the two gels.

Bokuto thinks this is an interesting choice, since the lighter hold really only stops flyaways, doesn’t really hold anything, but he’s decided to trust Akaashi to this so he vows to sit quietly and let Akaashi work.

Akaashi squirts a small amount of the gel onto his palm, and begins to work it into Bokuto’s hair.

He stops after a moment to grab the brush, parting Bokuto’s hair on the right.

Then his hands return to card through his hair, fingers directing stray hairs where he wants them to be.

Bokuto’s mind is racing, trying to imagine what his hair looks like. He kind of wishes he had a handheld mirror so he could watch Akaashi’s process, but he can feel well enough what’s going on.

It feels like _boring_ hair; parting to one side seems so middle school to Bokuto, but he supposes this is what Akaashi thinks might look good. Does Akaashi want him to have boring hair?

He bites his lip to stop the comment that’s bubbling up out of his lungs.

 _I trust Akaashi,_ he tells himself. _I trust him and he said I’ll look handsome either way, spiked hair or not._

It’s hard to believe, but maybe he can learn to like another hairstyle if that’s what Akaashi really wants.

He likes Akaashi an _awful_ lot. Definitely likes him more than his spiked hair.

That doesn’t mean he wants to give up his spiked hair, though.

Akaashi is playing with his fringe now, pushing it down toward his eyebrows. Then, his fingers ruffle through the back of his hair, playing with the shorter strands along his neckline and around his ears.

He cranes around Bokuto, presumably to see what the front looks like. Bokuto raises his eyebrows, silently asking what it looks like so far.

Akaashi shrugs and reaches for the washcloth to clean some of the extra gel off his fingers.

“This didn’t quite turn out how I thought it would, but I still think it looks nice,” he comments.

“Is it done?” Bokuto asks, only just managing to mask his impatience as excitement.

“Sure.”

Bokuto gets up off the floor and dashes to the bathroom mirror.

It’s not bad, he decides, but he doesn’t think he could handle having his hair so close to falling in his eyes all the time.

He comes back out to the living room.

“I don’t know about having hair in my eyes,” Bokuto says carefully, “but I think it looks nice. A little school portrait-y compared to my usual look.”

“I agree, it’s not a very Bokuto hair style.” Akaashi shrugs.

“Now it’s your turn!” Bokuto says. “I’ve got a great plan for what I’m going to do with your hair.”

Akaashi arches an eyebrow but complies, heading to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Before he returns to the living room, he gathers his own hair products: a light mousse, and a fine-toothed comb. His hair is really rather simple, after all.

Akaashi tosses a pillow down on the floor to sit on, boosting him up a bit higher to make him a good height for Bokuto to get at.

Bokuto has a few ideas of what he can do to Akaashi’s hair, but he’s not sure how to go about them.

He settles in on the couch behind Akaashi, and runs his hands through the curly mop. Akaashi hisses when Bokuto’s fingers snag on a tangle.

“First thing’s first,” Bokuto announces, and he picks up his brush.

Akaashi has closed his eyes, leaning back into the warmth of Bokuto’s legs.

Gently, Bokuto began working the brush through Akaashi’s hair, using his fingers as needed to work the tangles out.

As he brushes, though, he notices something. Akaashi’s hair is… fluffy.

He makes a concerned noise and starts patting at Akaashi’s hair, trying to fix them.

Akaashi cracks an eye open and turns around slightly. “What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing!” Bokuto says, starting to panic. _Oh no, I’ve ruined his hair, it’s a mess, it’s never going to look nice again and it’s my fault!_

He tries to brush the curls back into their original form, but it’s just making things worse.

“Bokuto, I can hear you panicking. What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to, I swear! But your hair got all… puffy and I can’t make it go back!”

“It’s because you’re using a brush, Bokuto,” Akaashi explains. “Brushes don’t usually work so well on curls.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!” Bokuto exclaims.

“I thought you would figure it out, or you were trying to give me more volume, for some reason.”

“Akaashi!” Bokuto wails. “Now your hair is ruined!”

“No it’s not. Hang on, I’ll go wet it down in the bathroom, and we’ll start again, ok?”

Akaashi stands, but before he goes to the bathroom he kisses Bokuto gently. “My hair isn’t ruined,” he smiles, kissing Bokuto again.

He goes to the bathroom and turns on the shower, and Bokuto is left waiting on the couch. He twiddles his thumbs, taps his feet, and bites his lips.

It’s been maybe two minutes, and Bokuto is already done waiting. He bounces up off the couch and tiptoes down the hall to the bathroom.

Why he’s tiptoeing, he doesn’t know. It just feels right for the moment, he tells himself.

At the bathroom door, he debates knocking versus just waltzing right in, but decides he might give Akaashi a heart attack if he doesn’t announce himself, so he knocks lightly, calling out.

“Akaashi?”

He opens the bathroom door, poking his head through quizzically.

“Bokuto? Are you talking to me?” Akaashi calls over the spray of water.

“I…” he falters. He what, got bored and wanted to join his boyfriend in the shower?

Yes. Exactly that.

“I got bored waiting and I was wondering if you maybe wanted some company?”

“Company… In the shower.”

“ _Company_ ,” Bokuto intones, waggling his eyebrows.

Akaashi sighs, but there’s a smirk on his lips. Bokuto knows he’s won.

He rips his t-shirt over his head and steps out of his pants with impressive speed as Akaashi pulls the curtain aside to let Bokuto in.

“You’re ridiculous,” Akaashi informs him.

“I know, but that’s part of my charm.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi hums in response.

“Akaashi, it’s part of my charm,” Bokuto insists.

“Of course it is, Bokuto,” Akaashi says. It’s fairly sarcastic, but Bokuto is willing to accept it for now.

The spray of water isn’t really large enough for two, so Bokuto is barely getting any water.

“Hey, switch with me,” he tells Akaashi, “I wanna rinse the gel out of my hair.”

“You don’t want to keep my hairstyle forever?” Akaashi asks innocently.

“I…”

“I’m teasing, Bokuto,” Akaashi says. “It didn’t suit you very well, after all.”

“Yeah, but at least you didn’t ruin my hair.”

“Bokuto, my hair is fine. It’s wet now, all the curls are back where they belong.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Make it up to me,” Akaashi says in a low voice, barely audible above the sound of the shower.

He steps in close to Bokuto, hands on Bokuto’s hips, and gently kisses his cheek.

Bokuto reacts quickly, chasing Akaashi’s lips for a quick but deep kiss.

“I can definitely make it up to you,” Bokuto says, grinning.

Akaashi hands him a bottle. “Condition my hair?” he asks innocently.

“Aww, I thought you meant shower sex!”

“Bokuto, we tried that, if you recall. I might still have bruises.”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“You split your lip on the faucet!”

“Minor details!”

“No shower sex,” Akaashi says firmly.

“Fine,” Bokuto whines. “Sex after?”

Akaashi thinks for a moment. “Maybe if you’re good.”

“I’m gonna be the best,” Bokuto says, squirting conditioner into his hand. “Tilt your head back, I’ll massage it in like they do at fancy hair salons.”

Bokuto rubs the cream between his hands, spreading it out, and then he buries his fingers in Akaashi’s hair. The curls are heavy with water, and they’re a bit tangled, so Bokuto combs through them gently.

He works his fingers from ends to roots, stroking through Akaashi’s locks reverently.

When he gets to Akaashi’s temples, he rubs small circles into them, pushing more firmly into the spots that make Akaashi groan softly.

He makes sure to test out every inch of Akaashi’s scalp for tender spots, places that he knows from his own experience relieve stress, places that he knows just feel good.

Akaashi is melting into his touch, and Bokuto moves closer to support him in case he really turns to jello.

“Koutarou,” Akaashi sighs as Bokuto’s hands circle back around to Akaashi’s temples.

“Keiji,” Bokuto all but whispers back, and he kisses Akaashi’s neck softly.

Akaashi hums pleasantly, so he does it again, mouthing along his hairline. He works his way down from just behind Akaashi’s ear, down that long neck, and daring to lick a stripe along a tendon.

“Blegh!” Bokuto exclaims in an entirely unsexy manner.

Akaashi’s boneless relaxation shifts into a sharp laugh.

“There’s soap! On your skin, aw man, it’s in my mouth,” Bokuto complains.

“You’re adorable,” Akaashi smiles. “Switch with me and I’ll rinse off, then I’ll wash your hair for you.”

“Hang on,” Bokuto says, and turns so his mouth can fill with water. He swishes it around and spits it out, making sure not to spit on Akaashi.

They swap, and Akaashi lets the water run over his hair for a moment before rinsing it gently. Then, he grabs the shampoo and works it into a lather before transferring it to Bokuto’s hair.

Bokuto closes his eyes and lets Akaashi’s hands do the rest. He feels those strong setter’s hands scratch and rub down to his scalp, and Bokuto is practically purring at the sensation. His hair is always so gelled up that he’s never really experienced getting his scalp rubbed, and he has to say he’s been missing out.

“Keiji, this feels so _good_ ,” he groans.

“I’m glad,” Akaashi smiles.

Bokuto moans a little bit more at the sensation, but soon the moans devolve into more tolerable humming.

“We should have done this months ago,” Bokuto says eventually.

“Wash each other’s hair?” Akaashi questions.

“Yeah. It’s not your everyday couples’ activity, but it totally should be.”

“I might be persuaded to do this more often.”

“Yes,” Bokuto says, pumping his fist. “And then maybe we can try—“

“No shower sex, Bokuto.”

 

When Akaashi’s hands start to get tired, Bokuto rinses his hair out and they both step out of the shower. They forgot to set out two towels, though, so Bokuto has to run naked across the hall to the linen closet, leaving a trail of water in his wake.

“Clean that up before you come to bed, Bokuto,” Akaashi tells him.

“Come to bed? It’s only like eight thirty,” he replies, confused.

“So you don’t want to have sex then?”

“Be right there!”

 

In the morning, Bokuto’s hair is a soft, bed-headed mess. It was damp when they went to bed, and sleeping on it wasn’t kind to him. Luckily, the magic of hair gel fixed everything.

“See, even though it looks crazy when it’s _au naturel_ , I can just gel it and it looks totally normal!”

“Normal for you, perhaps,” Akaashi snickers.

“You said you liked my hair!” Bokuto pouts.

“Don’t worry, Koutarou. I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr and ko-fi as ricekrispyjoints, if you're into that kind of thing


End file.
